Someone Else's Skin
by Amos Whirly
Summary: I thought, the first time I saw her—that maybe Winry had found a way through the gate. That maybe it was her—just wearing someone else’s skin. But it wasn't. And now she's not anybody anymore. -ON HIATUS-
1. Prologue Part One

A/N: FMA is my favorite anime, so it's high time I wrote a fic for it. I don't own any of these characters, and I'm not making money off this fic. This work is solely for my own amusement (and hopefully for the entertainment of anyone else reading). Although I loved the end of the FMA movie (and because deep down inside, I really am a hopeless romantic), I wanted a different, happier ending for both Al and Ed. Enjoy.

**Someone Else's Skin  
****Fullmetal Alchemist  
****Amos Whirly**

**Prologue – Part One **

It was paradise. Crystal blue water that seemed to melt into the horizon line. Flowers that bloomed bigger than both his fists combined. Bright, happy birds and the smell of fresh fruits that didn't grow well anywhere else. Cool air off the oceans and warm light from the sun.

Paradise.

And if there were a place like it in Amestris, Ed was certain he had never been there.

Risembool was farmland, grassy plains stretching from sky to sky. Central was a jungle, although it was an urban one. Lior and other parts of Ishbal were desert and barren. The only place he could compare it to was the little island Izumi had left him and Al on when they were young (and again when they were older). A little island full of trees and surrounded by water as clear as the sky.

But as close a comparison as it was, it was still different.

Everything in the world on the other side of the gate was different, even the things that were familiar.

Ed swallowed hard and gazed into the crystal water at his feet, feeling his throat constrict and his eyes burn. No. He had promised himself he wouldn't cry. He wasn't a little boy anymore, and crying wasn't appropriate. Not that it had been appropriate when he had been a little boy. He had always left the apparent sentimentality to his little brother, preferring to smuggle his own pain deep down into the dark recesses of his heart to be dealt with on his own or not at all.

Even now, Al sat on the dock, head bowed and shoulders shaking with his tears.

"God must really hate us," Ed muttered under his breath, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Al didn't answer. He held still, the bright sun shining in his soft brown hair.

Ed sighed.

He had been selfishly happy when Al had crossed over through the gate to Munich. He had been prepared to live out the rest of his days alone, and he was willing to do so happily, knowing that his little brother was alive—whole—body and soul again. But Al (the sentimental fool) had followed him through. Followed him through the gate. And while Ed was angry on the outside, in his heart he wanted to cry and leap for joy. He'd been alone for so long.

So had started their adventure together, searching for the explosive device the crazy old scientist from Amestris had created. Ed didn't even remember the man's name anymore. He had merely joined the list of all the other crazed psychopaths that he and his little brother had brought down. But, like so many other scientists, his work lived on even though he hadn't. His explosive device – a machine that could split atoms – was lost somewhere in the world beyond the gate.

Edward and Alphonse Elric vowed to find it.

The journey had taken them farther than they had imagined and had spiraled upward and out of control before they could stop it.

In the world beyond the gate, tensions were growing between nations. Even though Ed had played a part in stopping war from breaking out once, it was on the verge of happening yet again. A war that would envelope the entire world for the second time. And the group that was starting it all—people called Nazis—had found the scientist's experiment. They had found the device, and their own scientists were working on developing their own version of it.

Ed smiled softly at the memory.

He and Al had somehow managed to sneak behind German lines, invade the facility where all the research was taking place, and destroy everything the Nazis had learned. And in the mean time, they had managed to convince many of the scientists that they could escape from Germany. They could escape from Hitler—their Fuhrer (Ed found it ironic that the title was the same).

So they did. German scientists escaped from Germany and took the secrets of the atomic bomb to America. Ed and Al escaped and made their way to paradise—Hawaii.

They arrived in the tiny island state on December 1, 1941.

That was when they met her.

Ed felt the stinging sensation at the back of his eyes again and clenched his fists, fingernails digging into his palms, determined not to cry.

Wilma Redmond.

She was a nurse at Pearl Harbor, the American Naval Base.

She was tall and slender and had long blonde hair and big blue eyes, and she had a temper. And her face—her face was enough to make Ed's heart stop beating, enough to make the pain in his chest sharpen until it felt like a sharp stake driving into his lungs. Her face made the empty, hollow feeling inside him ache with agony he knew would never really go away.

Wilma Redmond was Winry Rockbell's double in the world beyond the gate.

Ed wasn't sure he had seen what he thought he had seen. He'd had to stop and look again and stare until she caught his eye and blushed at his golden gaze. Al, surprised as his brother, had recovered quickly and managed to drag his older brother away before he made an idiot of himself.

But Ed couldn't stay away.

He'd had to see her again.

So the next day, he had gone to the hospital just to see her. He'd inquired after her. He didn't give up until he got the chance to talk to her.

Wilma was quieter than Winry had ever been and more ladylike, but she had the same fierce resolve in her face, the same fire in her eyes—the staunch determination to help people.

When he was with her, he felt like a part of his heart was restored, like the last empty spot in his life had been filled, albeit partially. Wilma wasn't Winry, but she was just enough like her to sooth the jagged edges of his lonely soul—the ones that even Al couldn't reach.

Before he knew what was happening, Ed was asking her out. And she was saying yes. And they were eating dinner on the pier, listening to the birds sing. And after only a few days of knowing her, Ed knew in his soul that he couldn't live another day without her.

He had made a mistake with Winry. He had never told her how he felt. He had never told her what she meant to him. He wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

Al had cautioned him (of course, Al was always the cautious one). He reminded him that Wilma wasn't Winry. (Al didn't bring up the possibility of returning to Amestris and finding Winry again. Both of them had accepted that they would never return home again—not after they had destroyed the gate.)

"Be careful, brother," Al had said quietly, gently. "It's Winry you love. We both know that. And you shouldn't use Wilma like that."

Use Wilma. Hmph. Ed still remembered the offense he had felt at his brother's accusation. They had quarreled, of course. It was usually how they solved their arguments. But even at the end, Ed insisted that Wilma needed to join them—that she needed to be a part of his life—that he felt it was right. That it was what he wanted.

And Al, being the kind and compassionate brother he was, acquiesced and wished his brother good luck.

They had their discussion on December 6. Ed had been planning to talk to Wilma in the morning. He never got the chance.

The Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. Wilma was below deck on one of the ships that went down. She drowned.

One year later, Ed and Al sat on the Pearl Harbor dock, staring down into the clear water where they could vaguely see the dark shadows of the ship that served as Wilma's coffin.

"God has to hate us, Al," Ed said. "Everything we've ever loved—He's taken it all away from us. Mom. Our bodies. Our friends. Our home. Now this? What else can it be?"

Al sniffled and stood up, dabbing at his eyes and nose with a handkerchief. He knew Ed was only venting. He knew his older brother's questions were rhetorical. He didn't need an answer. He just needed to talk. So Al only stood beside Ed quietly, not speaking, not answering, just listening.

They stood, side by side, for a moment more while the white-capped surf crashed on the sandy beaches.

"Come on, Al," Ed said eventually. "Let's go."

Silently, Al fell into step behind his brother as Ed started back up the dock to the mainland.

The two brothers walked to the car at the top of the hill and climbed inside.

"I'm sorry, Ed," Al said finally. "I know you miss her."

Ed only grunted and started the car.

Al shut his door and fell silent again.

Ed guided the car onto the main road and maneuvered into the early morning traffic.

"It's funny, though," Ed said suddenly, causing Al to look at him in surprise.

"What's funny, brother?"

"I can't tell you."

Al looked confused.

"I can't tell you if I miss Wilma—or if I just miss Winry." Ed's voice shook. "Maybe you were right, Al. Maybe I didn't love Wilma for Wilma. Maybe I loved her—because she was Winry."

Al smiled sadly.

"I thought," Ed said, "the first time I saw her—that maybe Winry had found a way through the gate. And that Wilma was really her. Like I had been the other me, when I came through the first time. And it was me but not me. I thought, when I saw her that first day, that maybe it was her—just wearing someone else's skin."

"But she wasn't, brother. She was Wilma."

"I know." Ed blinked hard. "She was. Now she's not anybody anymore."

Al simply patted his brother on the arm, hoping to bring him some kind of comfort, though deep in his heart he knew it wouldn't do any good.

The hole in Ed's heart was empty once more.

Al doubted his big brother would ever let it be filled again.


	2. Prologue Part Two

**Someone Else's Skin  
****Fullmetal Alchemist  
****Amos Whirly**

**Prologue – Part Two **

The breeze whispering over the grassy plains and hills was slightly warm, and it mussed the blonde hair she kept tightly tied at the back of her head. She checked her paperwork one more time and verified she was heading in the right direction.

Riza Hawkeye had been to Risembool before, but she had never visited the Rockbell's house. Major Armstrong had, and so had Ross and Bloch. Even Roy had visited briefly, but she had only seen it from a distance.

That had been more than twenty years ago.

Riza checked her watch and continued walking briskly down the road. The train had arrived on time, and if the directions Roy had given her were correct, she would likely reach her destination in short order.

She had never been to the country before. It was much quieter than the busy life she led in Central. Pleasant. She briefly wondered if she could ever convince Roy to take a break and go somewhere quiet. Somewhere like this.

Riza checked her directions once more and kept walking.

After some time, she crested a hill and spotted the house she was looking for, a quaint home nestled in a grassy plain. Children played in the yard.

She frowned.

Maybe it wasn't the right home. Winry Rockbell had never married. She had no children. Riza checked the handwritten directions again, scrutinizing Roy's messy scrawl. No, this was the right home. In the distance, she could see the charred, broken remains of a house that used to belong to the Elrics.

This was the right house.

Riza approached quietly, and the children stopped playing. Some of them waved, and the older one—a boy with dark hair—ran into the house. Moments later, a woman with rose-colored hair stepped out onto the porch.

Riza remembered. Roze, the girl from Lior. She had come to live with Winry shortly after Alphonse Elric had regained his body, after Edward had disappeared. The children had to be hers.

All Riza knew of her was from charts and reports. They had never met in person.

"Good afternoon," the girl greeted her with a smile.

"Good afternoon," Riza said. She glanced at the wooden sign hanging from the porch. _Rockbell Automail_. "Does Winry Rockbell still live here?"

The girl nodded. "Yes. My name is Roze."

"Riza Hawkeye." She held out her hand.

Roze hesitated a moment before she accepted her hand. "From the military?" she asked. "You worked with General Mustang, didn't you?"

_General Mustang_, Riza thought briefly. _I haven't heard that title in a long time. _"I still do."

"You're out of uniform."

Riza smiled. "I resigned my commission some time ago. You all don't get news out here, do you?"

"Not really," Roze smiled. "Not since the newspaper and radio station shut down. But it's all right. Little that happens in Central affects us in Risembool. Would you like something to drink? I just made a pot of tea."

"That would be wonderful."

Riza followed Roze into the house and took a seat. The pink-haired girl filled two cups and came to sit down across from her.

"Is Winry here?" Riza asked. "I have something important I need to ask her."

"She is," Roze nodded slowly. "She's out at the moment." Roze handed her a teacup.

"Out?"

"At the cemetery."

"I see."

Roze sat down and stirred her tea. "Her grandmother, Pinako, passed away a few weeks ago."

"I'm very sorry to hear that."

Roze smiled sadly. "Pinako was a good woman. The best automail mechanic in Amestris. Winry learned everything she knew from her."

"Has she been getting a lot of business?"

Roze shook her head. "No. Not really. Ever since the wars stopped, it's just not in demand like it used to be."

They chatted pleasantly for a few more minutes, and Riza finished her tea. She checked her watch and was about to speak when the door opened.

Winry Rockbell entered the room, her long blonde hair tied loosely at the back of her head. She shut the door and stopped, staring at Riza.

"Winry," Riza nodded.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye?"

The woman was thin and pale, dark circles under her red eyes. She looked tired, but she had the same fiery spark in her blue eyes that Riza remembered.

"Just Riza now, Winry."

Winry glanced at Roze. "What are you doing here?"

"I have something I need to ask you."

Winry hesitated for a moment before she sat down on the couch next to Roze.

"I'll get you some tea," Roze said.

Winry leaned back into the couch cushions and looked hard at Riza. Riza smiled gently.

"I'm sorry to hear about your grandmother."

Winry pressed her lips together. "She was old. She died at peace."

"That's good to know."

"You're out of uniform," Winry blurted. "You're never out of uniform."

Riza laughed quietly. "I resigned from the military last year, Winry."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to stay and protect Roy," Riza said, "and first lieutenants aren't allowed to protect the Fuhrer."

"Fuhrer?" Winry whispered. "Roy Mustang is the Fuhrer?"

"The military council gave the choice to the people," Riza said, "and they all decided that they wanted a Fuhrer again. So they elected Roy."

Winry's gaze hesitated on the gold ring on Riza's left fourth finger.

"Yes," Riza nodded. "We married. Some years ago, actually. It was a quiet ceremony. We have a son now."

"Do you?"

"Edward."

Winry laughed. "Edward? Edward Mustang. Now that's irony." Winry shook her head. "Mustang, the Fuhrer."

"Yes," Riza said, "and as the Fuhrer, he's started changing things."

"All female officers in miniskirts?"

Riza made a face. "Absolutely not."

Winry grinned.

"He's found a hospital," Riza said. "Even though the wars are over and done, there are still many people who need automail. And there's no one in Central he trusts to head the automail division at this hospital. That's why I'm here. He wants you to come."

"Me?"

Riza nodded. "You're the best automail mechanic in the country, Winry. Roy wants you to head up the automail division at this hospital. There's no one else that could do it."

"I can't just leave."

"Why not?"

"I've lived here my entire life," Winry said. "I've never lived anywhere else."

"You're running a foster home too, aren't you?" Riza asked. "With Roze?"

"Yes."

"That's something that Gracia has been heading up."

"Mrs. Hughes?"

"Yes," Riza said. "Since Elysia enlisted, Gracia needed something to focus on. So she's been taking in children. She could use Roze's help."

Winry bit her lip.

"There would be food, board, a salary, and you'd be doing what you love," Riza said.

"Which is?"

"Helping people."

Winry sighed and stood up, gazing out the nearest window. Riza kept quiet, waiting for her to speak.

"How is Mustang?"

"Turning gray. But he's fine. He had hoped—we both had—that you would consider this."

"I am," Winry said. "There really isn't anything holding me here anymore. My grandmother was the last link in that chain."

Riza stood and moved to stand beside Winry.

She was looking out across the plains to where the Elric's house lay in ashes.

"You know," Winry said, "when he came back—was that really twenty years ago?—When I saw him again, I had this fleeting thought. That maybe—maybe I could keep him. That maybe I could convince him to stay. But he didn't. He left again. And took Al with him. And neither of them said goodbye."

Riza folded her hands and said nothing.

"We were always waiting for him, you know," Winry said. "We were his family. We were the ones who stayed behind and kept everything the same for him when he got home. So he had some place to come home. We were always waiting." She sighed. "I was always waiting."

Riza waited.

"He's not coming back," Winry said. "I realized that as I watched him fly through that gate. Choosing to go away for the second time and leave me behind. I knew then that he wouldn't come back. Just as I knew it was pointless to wait for him. But I couldn't help it. We had always waited. That was all I knew how to do."

Winry turned and smiled sadly.

"It really is pointless to wait for someone you know will never return."

"Then stop waiting," Riza said, "and come with me. There are a lot of people who need you, your skills, your talents. Don't let it all go to waste, Winry."

Winry looked over her shoulder and saw Roze standing, smiling.

"What do you think, Roze?"

"I think we should to it."

Winry nodded and turned to Riza. "All right, then. Sign me up. When do we leave?"

"When can you be ready?"

Roze smiled beautifully, and Winry folded her arms. "How about next week?"

"Next week it is."

After a few more moments of pleasant conversation, Riza said goodbye and started walking again. Winry and Roze waved at her from the porch, while the children played around their feet.

Both Roy and Gracia would be elated.

As she walked, she passed the fallen remains of the Elric's house, and Riza felt the familiar nagging pain in the corner of her heart, wishing she had been able to talk to Edward again when he had returned so briefly twenty years earlier.

She smiled to herself. Riza knew all about waiting. She had waited for Mustang for years. For years and years. But waiting for someone you knew would never come back was fruitless.

She hoped with all her heart that Winry could somehow manage to leave Edward behind and find happiness in Central. But at the same time she knew such thing would be impossible.


End file.
